


Why You Gotta Be So Rude?

by hereforporn



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Eventual Smut, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, Karaoke, M/M, also a total dork
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-13 04:59:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2137893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereforporn/pseuds/hereforporn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal is pining after an apparently oblivious Will. Things come to a head when Will's scary dad comes to town and the gang ends up at Franklyn's Karaoke Bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at slash ever and my first work of fanfic in a very long time so comments and feedback would be greatly appreciated! Not beta-read, so also any correction of grammar etc. also appreciated :)

Ah. After a long day of treating Baltimore’s richest, finest and -to Hannibal- the most boring society members, it is a relief when Will Graham arrives for his appointment. Hannibal always makes sure Will is the last patient of the day, ostensibly because of Will’s busy schedule, but in reality it just makes it easier for the session to somehow transition into dinner, or driving Will home, or offering for him to just stay over. In the guest room of course. You know, in case the Chesapeake Ripper suddenly decides to commit a murder in the middle of the night, that is (unbeknownst to him) meant for Will’s eyes only.

  
“Ah, Will”, he gestures towards the leather chair, mouth relaxing from “concerned professional” into a genuine smile.

  
“Dr - Hannibal. I think I’m going to stand today”. Will shuffles in, and Hannibal frowns. He wishes that it was easier for Will to drop the formal title after all this time. 

  
“What’s on your mind Will?”

  
“My father is coming to visit. I mean, not visit me exactly, business in town. He phoned this morning, he’s already on the road”, Will spreads his hands outward in front of him, fingers twitching, as if trying to convey why this is a bad thing. He paces uneasily pack and forth. Although this is familiar territory for the psychiatrist, many patients over the years making him wish that there was a thorough screening process before you could become parents, Hannibal is unsure how to proceed with Will. He has never done anything as Freudian, as primitive, as to just ask outright Will about his parents, but he has noted the way that Will occasionally refers to his father as “The Old Man”. Not the embarrassingly folksy yet at least loving “pops” that many Americans use, not even using the possessive “my old man”, _The_ Old Man. And always, always, with a slight flinch that Hannibal has seen in so many abused patients that it makes him sit up ever so slightly straighter, the only outward sign of his sudden murderous urge.

  
“And how long will he be staying?”

  
“Long enough”

  
“Long enough for what Will?”

  
When Will doesn’t reply, only shooting Hannibal a glance that says ‘drop the doctor act’, Hannibal decides to try a different tactic.

  
“Is he staying with you?”

  
“Yes, of course, although he hates the dogs. Not like it matters, they’ll be staying with me on the couch”

  
“You cannot be sleeping on a couch whilst in the middle of a case. You must stay here.”

  
“No, no no, I can’t just leave him there. With my dogs”

  
“You know Jack would agree with me Will. And Alana. It would be unwise to ignore advice from the people that mean you well"

  
“Wouldn’t it be rude of me to abandon my hostly duties?”, Will raises an eyebrow with a slight smile,

  
“Ah, well it was rude for your father to drop by unannounced”, and he returns the smile, but seeing that Will still seems reluctant he adds, regretting it already, “I have a large yard your dogs could stay in?”

  
Will pauses in his pacing.

  
“Fine. But only if you make them more of those liver-treats they seemed to love”

  
“Of course”. Hannibal smiled.

  
. . . . . .

  
Beverly burst into the morgue, surprising Jimmy, Brian and Hannibal, who were examining the latest corpse. Liver removed, along with the kidneys, heart and half a leg. After all, Hannibal would be cooking for two for a couple of days.

  
“Guys. _Guys_. Will’s outside with like…an older guy”, she whispered excitedly,

  
“Ah-hah! Totally called it. Pony up babe”, grinned Brian, reaching out for his money,

  
“Mr Zeller, Ms Katz. That man is Will’s father, Charles Graham”

  
“Dammit”, Brian cursed as Jimmy laughed, safely pocketing his money and kissing Brian on the cheek.

  
“Huh. Well, I thought it was a bit odd. Seems a bit grizzled for Will anyway”

  
“Yeah, I picture him with someone more….polished? European even?”, Jimmy grinned. Hannibal flushed ever so slightly. He would not let the _kvailys_ raise his hopes. Not even slightly.

  
“And what do you mean by that? Are you betting on Will’s sexuality, for that seems highly unprofessional”, Hannibal half-heartedly scolded them, dying to hear what they knew about Will’s relationships, a subject that neither Hannibal or Will had broached in their sessions. He suspected some history between Will and Alana, but could he really blame him for that? She was exceptionally beautiful. 

  
Jimmy rolled his eyes at Hannibal, they had become better acquainted recently yet he still insisted on acting like he had a stick up his ass. A really fancy, expensive stick, he would bet.

  
“No, we all agree that there’s a repressed twink behind those flannels dying to come out”

  
Twink? Hannibal furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Despite feeling no shame about his pansexuality, and noting that nearly everyone at the FBI being very supportive of Jimmy and Brian’s relationship so there was no real problem there, he kept out of any scenes. Americans were awfully backward about this sort of thing, he felt, many unable to truly comprehend the beauty of meeting a true soul-mate, whatever gender they were.

  
“The bet is when he’s going to actually bring in a boyfriend”

  
“Yeah, I’ll still get the money if he comes out by the end of the month”

  
“I see. You are all certain that Will is-?”

  
Before he could complete the sentence, the man himself walked in, stooped slightly, one hand tightly gripping the opposite forearm.

  
“I’m fine, if that’s what you’re talking about. Fully cleaned up”, Will had earlier vomited on scene, shortly after his father had called. He blamed it on the corpse, which was actually quite tame for a ripper murder, as Will quickly identified it to be, it was beautiful as far as Hannibal was concerned. Concerned that his worst fears about Mr Graham were true, Hannibal nevertheless enjoyed that the sudden vomiting had allowed Hannibal to swoop in, putting his hand onto Will’s flushed forehead, helping him to a chair, bringing him water, Will needing him, leaning into him unconsciously...

  
“Hannibal was just saying your dad is here”, Beverly said, lightly punching him on the arm.

  
“Yeah, he’s outside”

  
“Wow. _The_ Mr Graham, I’d love to meet him.”

  
“You should bring him out with us tonight!” Brian chimes in, quickly looking to Hannibal. “And uh, you’re welcome too Hannibal. We just didn’t think…you know…”

  
Hannibal just raises his eyebrows and Brian’s tactlessness. _Pagrindiniai kalės_ , he thinks with a tinge of affection.

  
“Oh shit, I completely forgot…I can’t. We were going out. Dinner, father…son”, Will looks blankly ahead of him, picturing himself and his father, chewing food somewhere in complete silence.

  
“I think your father would like to meet your friends Will and you need a night out”, he leans in closer, touching Will’s back, lowering his voice, “it might take some of the pressure off, seeing him again after so long”

  
“Doctor’s orders?” Will asks, not quite smiling. Hannibal just nods, trying not to imagine playing doctor with Will, strapping him down to a table, whilst wearing nothing but a coat kept from his old emergency room days that he still kept for such reasons. He had seen the way Will had looked at him in the back of that ambulance; they had definitely shared a moment there, with his hands massaging that man’s kidney. Oh yes, Hannibal thought, it was definitely a look of arousal. Possibly tinged with fear, but that was to be expected, desired, even…

  
“Hannibal?”

  
“Uh, yes. Doctor’s Orders, as you say”, his arousal thickening his accent, “Where are we going then?”

**. . . . . .**

“Dr Lecter?”

  
“Ah, Mr Froideveaux I had no idea that you ran this…establishment”, Hannibal looks around the bar with a look of disdain. People were wearing a uniform of jeans. He could only see beers listed on the board, he would bet his plaid tie collection that they had a very limited wine list. And most offensive of all was the karaoke machine, a stumbling woman was attempting to sing...he didn't even know what. He didn't care to know. 

  
“Oh, it’s a very minor part of my overall empire, ha-ha”.

  
 _Žioplys_. He actually said ha-ha.

  
“But a karaoke bar. I would not have guessed that a man who professes to love the opera could stand to hear drunken people-“

He was cut off by a violent nudge from Will, with a warning head-shake towards his father, who had already somehow gotten a hold of the song list.The drive over to FRANK’S PLACE (“What? It’s two-for-one cocktails on a Tuesday”, Jimmy informed them) in Hannibal’s Bentley had been exceptionally awkward, with Mr Graham – “I go by Chuck, actually” – in the front seat and Will, Jimmy and Brian crammed in the back, Alana and Beverly meeting them there. Mr Graham had drawn his coat tightly around himself, as if to protect him from the fanciness, giving short replies to everyone’s polite questions and sniffing in a way which drove Hannibal mad. If he wasn't Will’s father…

  
“Froideveaux…wait- isn’t that the cheese guy?” Beverly asks in what Hannibal presumed was her idea of a whisper. Hannibal narrows his eyes. Part of the reason he disliked socializing with the forensic team was that they often tried to get him drunk enough to break down his well-cultivated aloofness and manners. But a couple of whiskeys (the good kind, courtesy of Beverly) and tequila slammers (courtesy of Brian) after a session where Franklin had left five, _five_ , snot-stained tissues on his glass table had the good doctor describing to the raucous bunch each and every one of Franklyn’s pathetic idiosyncrasies. _Šūdas_. He had even done an impression of the piggy way he cried.

  
“You’ve…been speaking about me?” Franklyn looked…hopeful?

  
“Yes... I have been meaning to introduce you to my _other_ friends and here we are”, he presented the rest of the gang, Brian bowing sarcastically.

  
Franklyn was beaming as Hannibal mentally cursed himself. _Kalės vaikas!_ Now he would have to kill Franklyn. There was no way was he being admitted into the carefully maintained circle of Hannibal’s “friends”, it had been bad enough that people had seen them talking at the opera.

  
“Wow, well that’s…the best table! The best table for my _friend_ Hannibal!”

  
Hannibal winced at this _kiaulė_ referring to him by name, but followed without comment to what passed as the best table in the bar.

  
“Whadda-ya think son? You gonna start us off with sumthin’?” Will’s father leaned in; the older man was wiry and wrinkled but seemed much more imposing than his son. There was a coldness in his demeanor and he had a certain way of standing that made him look like he was ready to fight, any fucking time you want to go, pal. 

  
“I…I…”, Will cleans his glasses furiously, he was worse than usual, and after Hannibal had been making such good progress with him.

  
“Let’s get some drinks first”, Jimmy to the rescue, and Hannibal sends up what he hoped would be his only prayer thanking for the man’s existence.

  
“Well alright then. But I’m going to put my name down for ‘My Way’ later” and Mr Graham saunters off to the bathroom. Will groans and put his head in his hands.

  
“Hey, I think it’s going really well!” Alana tries to sooth Will, running her hand in smooth circles on his back. Hannibal has to suppress a possessive growl.

  
“Ooh, maybe you should sing a song together to renew your father-son bond!”

  
“Shut up Brian”, Beverly interrupts, “he should sing a song to show his independence! Wait- I’ve got it! Do ‘Who Let the Dog’s Out’!” and everyone but Hannibal falls about laughing. He was going to have to google that later, much to his shame. He would hate for Beverly to know he checked out all of her pop culture references, though he did enjoy and secretly binge-watch all of Pushing Daisies. He justified it by telling himself that it was only because he appreciated the effort the pie-maker put into his culinary presentation. And it gave him some good ideas for future ripper murders…

  
“Let’s see…beer for ‘Lana and me, whiskey for the Grahams, wine for you Dr Lecter”, Jimmy presents the glass with a flourish and fake tip of the hat, “aaand a Screaming Orgasm for my boyfriend”, he winks at Brian as he puts down the glass, receiving a slap on his butt in return.

  
“Oh. So…you two…?”, Graham wiggles his fingers at them, Hannibal noting a look of horror dawning on Will’s face,

  
“Yep. Five years next fall”, Brian replied, kissing Jimmy on the cheek.

  
Chuck looks down, eyebrows drawn, and beside him Hannibal can feel Will’s body tense up. Allowing himself a quick stroke of Will’s leg – “touch is soothing. I am a doctor” he thinks– Hannibal positively blurts out before Chuck can say whatever Will fears he might,

  
“Franklyn!” for he has been hovering close by the entire time, picking up glasses from other table, even the ones that aren't empty much to the annoyance of his other customers, “Franklyn. I want to sing”

  
“Woah”, gasps Alana, basically speaking for the group as a whole, and even Will’s father can sense that this fancy-city doctor-in-the-too-fancy-suit doesn’t usually sing. Or attend bars. Or does anything Chuck would count as proper manly behaviour. He squints at Hannibal’s perfectly manicured nails.

  
They remain in shocked silence while a slightly shaking Franklyn hands Hannibal the song list to peruse. One song catches his eye almost immediately; he has heard Abigail playing it in her room on one of his visits (ignoring the far superior classical records he had gifted her, he noted) and is certain that he can remember the tune.

  
“This one”

  
“Are you…are you sure?”

  
“Yes”, and stands up, rolling back his shoulders, shrugging out of his suit jacket the better to show his toned frame to Mr Graham, and to his son, who he fervently hopes is checking out his ass as he strides confidently up to the small stage. Franklyn shoos another customer off the stage before he can even finish his butchered rendition of ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’, much to the relief to the rest of the bar.

Hannibal steps up. The lights dim, and he can hear what has to be Alana wolf-whistling as the music starts.  
He clears his throat.

  
“ _Saturday morning, jumped out of bed_ ”, his voice is rich and warm, the accent making the bland pop-style seem strange and fresh,

  
“ _And put on my best suit_ ”, he gestures downward at his plaid ensemble, winking in what he hopes is Will’s direction, he can’t tell from the bright lights, and he gets a couple of laughs from the blurred audience.

  
“ _Got in my car and raced like a jet_  
 _All the way to you_  
 _Knocked on your door with heart in my hand_  
 _To ask you a question”_

Hannibal can feel his heart racing, “my pulse is elevated. Ah, the excitement of performance”, he lies to himself,

“ _'Cause I know that you're an old-fashioned man, yeah_ ”, he grimaces slightly at the American-ness of “yeah”, what a disgusting word, and nods a little in Chuck’s direction,

“ _Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life?_  
 _Say yes, say yes 'cause I need to know_  
 _You say I'll never get your blessing 'til the day I die_  
 _Tough luck, my friend, but the answer is 'No'”_

And it would be no, judging by his reactions to Jimmy and Brian... “Alright”, he thinks to himself, “Hannibal, getting a bit ahead of yourself here, you’re not even dating”,

“ _Why you gotta be so rude?_  
 _Don't you know I'm human too?_  
 _Why you gotta be so rude?_  
 _I'm gonna marry her anyway_ ”

By now the usually stoic doctor is playing it up, dancing a little, a little sad that his audience is only half-in on the joke,

“ _Marry that girl_  
 _Marry her anyway_  
 _Marry that girl_  
 _Yeah, no matter what you say_  
 _Marry that girl_  
 _And we'll be a family_  
 _Why you gotta be so_  
 _Ruuuuude”_

And when he returns to the table, to the loud whoops and whistling coming from his friends, he can see Will laughing and shaking his head. He slides in next to him,

  
“Excellent song choice Dr Lecter. Very you”, Will says with mock formality, and Hannibal bows his head.

  
“Oh my god I can’t believe you just did that. You never do…that”, Alana, on her third beer, is wide-eyed with amazement.

  
“Why Alana, you have been telling me for many years to ‘loosen up a little’”, Hannibal smiles.

  
“Ooh, ooh, us next Alana! Please!” and Beverly drags her to the stage. As they sing ‘Independent Woman’, enthusiastically and a little out of tune but endearingly so, all Hannibal can focus on is Will’s leg next to his. His heat. The smile still on his face.

  
“Didn’t have you marked down as a singer, Doctor”, Chuck peers at him over the rim of his whiskey glass.

  
“Well, when in Rome” Hannibal smiles curtly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I love secret-swearing Hannibal, but I relied mostly on google-translate for these:  
> kvailys - jackass/idiot  
> Pagrindiniai kalės - basic bitches (i think this is the one that is least likely to be an actual translation of that phrase)  
> Žioplys - fucker  
> Šūdas - shit  
> Kalės vaikas - son of a bitch  
> kiaulė - pig
> 
> The song Hannibal sings is "Rude" by Magic! and the video can be found here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PIh2xe4jnpk  
> (though I kind of prefer this cover: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o9yMXzARTZE&index=5&list=PL7A4D9C100657150E)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a bit of homophobia expressed in this chapter just to warn you.  
> Sorry it's a bit shorter than the last chapter!

“Come on Will!”, urged Beverly,

“Yeah, we’ve all had a turn!”, chimed in Price, who’s earlier rendition of ‘Sweet Caroline’ had the whole bar singing along with him. Mr Graham’s rendition of ‘My Way’ went down well, but the real stunner of the evening so far (after Hannibal) was Alana’s perfect rapping of ’99 Problems’.

“Well, yeah, I…”, Will had been quietly downing whiskey after whiskey, content just to watch his friends having a good time.  

“That’s not quite true!” the group turned to see a slightly swaying Franklyn,

“I haven’t had a turn yet!”, and he stomped toward the stage, the group’s stunned silence slowly turning into the awkward snorts of repressed laughter.

“This one! This one goes out to my _friend_ Hannibal! But like…it’s not about him” Franklyn shouted, slurring his words, pointing at the doctor, “he’s just a great guy! He’s my therapist! He’s been really really _really_ great. You should get his number! You know. If you have _problems_ ”, and the music started as Hannibal, who’s only outward sign of drunkenness was a slightly loosened tie, slumped down in his seat to avoid the stares of the rest of the bar’s patrons.

“ _I love you_

_From the bottom of my heart_ ”

 

 Franklyn’s voice is surprisingly not bad, but Hannibal can’t appreciate this because Beverly is howling with laughter, nudging him sharply in the ribs,

“Duuuuude”, she laughs, “he totally-Ahem”, she fakes a throat clear as she remembers who she’s talking to,

 

“ _And that's not gonna change but things look grim_

_When I am watching you watch him_ ”.

 

“ _Prakeiktas_!” thinks Hannibal, desperately trying to stop himself from turning to Will again.

 

_“I give you_

_The best a man can hope to give_

_But I'm not feeling brave chances are slim_

_When I am watching you watch him”_

_Ohhh What is left to learn_

_When he would let you crash and burn_

_He never gives attention but you still yearn_

_Where do I fit in_

_When I am watching you watch him”_

 

He can’t believe Franklyn’s noticed. The densest, thickest _bukagalvis_ he had ever met. Then again, Franklyn basically stalked him out of office hours, concealing his own affections very poorly. He must have seen Will and Hannibal going out for dinner, or meeting _totally_ by chance at Baltimore’s dog show. Hannibal doubted that Franklyn really ‘loved’ him, merely craved his same level of confidence and maybe hoped that some level of class could be transferred to him via intercourse.

Will hadn’t noticed. It had taken Will an age to even look Hannibal in the eye. Which was fine by Hannibal, it allowed him to gaze at Will at leisure, take it all in. The angelic curls juxtaposed with the rough stubble of his jaw, the finely formed hands, and the lithe body hidden under baggy clothes. Will hid so much: his affections, his cleverness, even his hobbies. His silence had left an emptiness in their sessions which Hannibal had begun to fill with himself, telling Will about his upbringing, showing Will his drawings, offering to take him to the opera. Hannibal wanted so much more from Will, he knew that Will understood the meaning behind his murders, he was the only person capable of truly seeing Hannibal, and yet here he was now, not even registering his surroundings, let alone Hannibal. 

“So…do you and fat guy have a history?”, Chuck leered over at Hannibal, who grimaced at the thought.

“Only a professional one. Franklyn has a problematic tendency to attach himself to the authority figures in his life. With his last therapist-”

“Hey, how about a little doctor-patient confidentiality?”, Alana raised her eyebrows at her old mentor.

“Yeah, _Doctor_ Lecter”, Beverly grinned. Alana, thank god, hadn’t been there the night of the Franklyn impressions. He would hate to slip in her affections. But Hannibal began to relax, he could take this. He knew that a slight ‘ribbing’ was considered normal between friends. And that’s when Chuck said, quite calmly, sipping on his whiskey,

“Huh, seems to me his problem lies in being a queer”.

And those words leave Alana silent, Beverly splutters, Will springs up and basically runs into the bathroom.

“And what the fuck do you mean by that?” shouts Zeller, slamming his glass down as Price spreads his hands up,

“Woah, hold on there”

“Mr Graham, I can assure you that homosexuality is no longer considered a mental disorder“

“But it sure is a _moral_ disorder, plaid-boy”

“Hey! Hey no fighting in my bar! Not during my song!” Franklyn whined, the song wasn’t over yet, the happy-clappy music continuing to play.

“What the hell kind of fag-song was that anyway?” Chuck yelled at him, ignoring the furious Zeller who was having to be restrained by Jimmy and Alana. The rest of the patrons were giving their table a wide berth.

“For your information, it was on _Grey’s Anatomy_. It’s about doctors. Sexy…doctors…”

And a shuddering Hannibal left to go after Will.  

. . . .

“Fuck…FUCK”, Will was pacing much like he had been back in Hannibal’s office.

“Will, Will calm down”, Hannibal moved in to grab his shoulders, forcing Will to stop and face him.

“No! Jesus, he…fuck. Jimmy and Brian. Shit. Shitfuckjesus”, he pushed off a slightly surprised Hannibal, who did not think it fitting to remind Will (somewhat hypocritically) that swearing was rude.

“Will. I am sure Zeller and Price can handle themselves. It is you that I am worried about”

“Oh yeah? You want to talk about my father, _Doctor_? My daddy-issues?”

“Will, that is unfair. I am here as your friend”

“Fuck that. Fuck you”.

“Do you want to?”

“What?”

“Do you want to fuck me? Is that part of the problem?”, Hannibal steps closer to Will. He can smell the anger and the fear of his sweat mixed with the smokey whiskey on his breath.

“You…you arrogant fuckhead”, Will steps closer as well, shoulders back in confrontation, and he looks up, he looks up at Hannibal with those eyes that Hannibal has tried to capture on paper a hundred times, he cannot find the right shade of blue, and its those eyes that make him lean in,

“If you can’t say anything nice Will, perhaps you should not say anything at all”,

And he kisses Will Graham, keeping his eyes wide open.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prakeiktas- dammit!  
> bukagalvis- blockhead/idiot
> 
> The song Franklyn sings is 'Watching You Watch Him' by Eric Hutchinson which you can find here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ddz7MZCMG8 (and was used on Grey's Anatomy).
> 
> Kind of tempted to write about Will and Hannibal going to a dog show but I have never been to one D:


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little violent? But not overly so. I know its in the tags, but just to warn you: homophobia coming up.

“And just where is my son?!” Chuck yells at Franklyn, who is safely hidden behind one of his bouncers.

“I don’t know sir, but you are never welcome back in _FRANK'S PLACE_ again”, and he goes back inside, to assess the damage, on the verge of tears. No one had applauded his song and Hannibal was gone. And they were making such progress!

Whilst Will was still pressed against Hannibal in the bathroom, Chuck had managed to overturn a number of tables whilst shrieking at Jimmy and Brian about their ‘unnatural’ lifestyle. The fight was continuing outside.

“You’ve been corrupting my son! I thought the FBI didn’t stand for that sort of thing, I thought it upheld _America_ and _American values_!”

“Yeah, the American values of freedom and justice for all, _asshole_ ”

“We haven’t done shit to your son; your son is too damned scared to look at people, let alone fuck them!”

“…I made out with him once”. They all turned to look at Alana. “What? Just…full disclosure you know”

“Well, sugar, if _you_ couldn't turn him straight-”

“That’s not how it fucking works”, Zeller yells at Chuck.

“Look, just screw you, you bitter old man. I love this man; nothing you say can change that. We are going home. Come on Brian”, Price pulls him away from the scene.

. . . .

 _“Mano Dievas”_ , Will’s lips were so warm, feverish even, he feels amazing, Hannibal runs his hands through that soft hair and down his muscled back, and _blet_ , that ass, how did he hide that pert piece of absolute perfection?

“ _Galėčiau tiesiog valgyti jus_!”

“What?” he laughs, but Will doesn't stop kissing Hannibal, down his neck, biting lightly,

“I could eat you up”, Hannibal repeats huskily, unable to think in English anymore,

“You dirty cannibal”, Will smiles, and for a second Hannibal panics, this is not how he imagined Will finding out, before realising that Will is joking, that Will is pressing a hand against Hannibal’s cock,

“God I have to get these trousers off you. I hate them”, he smirks at the disgruntled Hannibal, who had never imagine that Will would be so…willing. So deliciously greedy. He had pictured a perhaps more submissive and meek Will, but was delighted by discovering this living, wild man pressing against him,

“ _Aš noriu jus, aš noriu jus_ , _Will_ ”, he is kissing him back ferociously, holding him against the wall of the bathroom, he hears someone enter so he picks Will up, wrapping Will’s legs around him and carries him into a stall, trying not to think about the germs, and he can feel Will hard against his stomach, and he moans,

“Will Will _Will_ ”

“Hannibal?”.

Fuck. It’s Beverly.

“Miss Katz, this is the _men’s_ room”, he can barely splutter out,

“Well, Jimmy and Brian have gone home, Mr Graham isn't allowed back in here and Alana’s too much of a goody-goody, so…”

“Shit, Shit”, Will pushes Hannibal off him, who makes a distressed and needy moan that he will later pretend never happened, and bursts out of the stall, “I need to apologise, I need to…fuck”

“Hey, calm down Will. This could be a good thing. He’s already mad, so telling him you and Hannibal are boning could-“

“I am not with Dr Lecter! I’m not with anybody! I’m not _gay_ , just because you and Brian and Jimmy have some stupid fucking _bet_ …this is my _life_ ”

“Will-“ Hannibal is straightening out his tie and redoing several shirt buttons. It is clearer to him now, this is one just one part of Will that Hannibal needs to help him acknowledge, to help him unlock. Homosexual leanings first, underlying homicidal tendencies later.

“Don’t you talk to me! You…you _predator_ ”

And Will pushes past Beverly, leaving her and Hannibal alone in the men’s bathroom.

“Wow, aren't you a filthy slut” she smirks at Hannibal,

“Miss Katz. This is not the time for jokes”

“Yeah, it’s not the time for you to have an erection either”

Hannibal sniffs and discreetly tries to rearrange his tented plaid trousers.

“I let my emotions get the better of me-“

“Your big gay emotions. I had no idea!”, her grin widens, leaning against a urinal like she storms into the men’s room every day of her life. She could do, for all Hannibal knows. “I should keep an eye on her”, he thinks.

“Pan. I am pansexual. I have…big pansexual emotions”

“Wow, well I knew you liked cooking but not _that_ much”.

“What?”

“Pans? Get it?”

Hannibal pauses briefly.

“My sexuality is not a joke, Miss Katz”, he states coldly, though he mentally records the joke in case he needs to use it at some sort of coming-out dinner party.

“Sorry, I-“

“Miss - Beverly. We should go help Will”.

 

. . . .

“Will, there you are. Where the fuck were you, boy?”

“Will! We were so worried”, Alana cries,

“I was…I was…”

“Why are you friends with _those_ kinds of people? You don’t remember? Do you need another lesson?”

“I remember! I haven’t! Not since…not since” and pain passes over Will’s face, he clutches at his chest,

“I can’t…I can’t…” he wheezes,  

“What? What the hell’s gotten into you? Will? Will!” his father is shaking him, and slaps him around the face, which is when Hannibal and Beverly come out of the bar.

“Jesus fuck!”, Beverly runs over desperately trying to stop Chuck.

“Mr Graham desist, I am a doctor. Will. Will? Breathe. Everything is fine. In…and out”

“Can’t…breathe”, Will is sweating profusely, shaking, Hannibal is having to hold him upright,

“Call an ambulance”

“He is having a panic attack. He does not need to go to hospital, he will be fine. Alana, drive Mr Graham to Will’s, before taking Beverly home”

“You think I’m going to leave my own goddamn son to-“

“He has already arranged to stay at mine”

“My dogs…Winston…”

 “Calm. Will, that’s right, your dogs are at mine. Think of your dogs…nice, happy…”, he turns to Beverly, who shrugs, then Alana. He’s always been more of a cat person.

“Lovely, fluffy, happy dogs”, Alana steps forward, “think of little Winston, brave Winston”

“This is ridiculous, I’m coming with you”, Chuck starts moving towards Will, who is still breathing shakily.  

“I refuse to let a homophobe into my car”

“I am his father, you rich-city cock-sucking-“

Hannibal basically pushes Will into Alana’s arms as he springs forward to punch Chuck with cold precision, breaking his nose with a sickening crunch. 

“You are no father. What did you do to him?”, Hannibal punches him again, this time in the kidneys, making Chuck double over in pain,  “What did you do?”, he seems, to Beverly, to be quite calm considering the circumstances.  Alana screams in shock, seeing her old mentor, the calm and composed Dr Lecter, being so violent.

“Did you do this?” Hannibal kicks him, “did you hurt him in places nobody would see?”, Hannibal has seen plenty of men like Chuck. Pigs. So scared, lashing out at whatever they cannot comprehend. Hannibal has killed plenty of men like Chuck. 

“Hannibal that is enough, we need to get Will somewhere to rest”, Beverly goes forward yet is reluctant to touch the doctor.

“Mr Graham's nose is broken, but otherwise he is fine”.

Hannibal punches Chuck once again for good measure, and then pushes his flopping hair back into place before grabbing Will from a shocked Alana, leaving Mr Graham coughing up blood on the ground.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mano Dievas- my god  
> Blet - fuck. (apparently. I am having difficulty here because google seems to hate swearing. Blet is like russian, but commonly used in lithuanian?)  
> Galėčiau tiesiog valgyti jus - I could just eat you (though I imagine that one is grammatically incorrect)  
> Aš noriu jus - I want you (again...google translate...)
> 
> I've only ever had one real panic attack, so please feel free to correct me on the symptoms here.


	4. Chapter 4

“Will, are you alright? Do you know where you are?”

Will tries to sit upright but the luxurious and slippy leather of Hannibal’s sofa prevents him from doing so.

“I told you to stay away from me!”

“Will, I am acting here as your doctor-“

“You forced yourself on me!”

Hannibal cocks his head at Will whilst raising a disappointed eyebrow.

“Now, Will. We both know that is not true. But that is not important right now. Tell me Will, have you ever had a panic attack before?”

“...Yes”

“Alright, do you remember how we got here?”

“You punched my dad and then kidnapped me”

“Will. Please”.

“Fine. You kidnapped me in your car”

“Very good. How is your vision? Any more shortness of breath?”

“I’m much better thank you, I am going to call a taxi”

“Now, now Will. You already agreed to stay the night here. Your dogs are here”

“Where?”

“Outside”. They had whined dreadfully upon Hannibal and Will’s return, but Hannibal could not bring himself to let the fuzzballs into the house.

“Jesus, it’s a cold evening! Outside? I can’t believe you would-“

“The dog house I rented has a heating system Will. I am not a cruel man”, Hannibal sniffed.

“A…heating system?”

 “Yes, see you for yourself. I trust you will be satisfied”,

Hannibal takes Will into the garden where he has rented what appears to Will to be a small palace filled with his dogs. He can see inside the tasteful, sleek building that there are large fluffy sofas, what appears to be automated food dispensers and outside…a retinal scan?

“Holy fuck. That’s bigger than my god damn house”

“Language, Will”, Hannibal smirks.

Will’s attempt to shoot Hannibal a dirty look is thwarted by his dogs, who all jump on him at once, knocking the still-unsteady Will over.

“Hey! Bad dogs! Bad bad lovely lovely dogs, I am so happy to see you! Yesh I am! Yesh!”, Will’s face finally relaxes.

Hannibal rolls his eyes.

“Your room is of course upstairs”

“Well if it’s any like this-“, Will grins, before remembering the evenings events.

“No. No I can’t stay. You _assaulted_ my father”

“Your father is a bigot”

“Jesus, Hannibal, that doesn’t change the fact that he’s my dad”

“He does not treat you with the love a father should”

“What the fuck would you even know about dads, or love?”

There is a slight pause, and Hannibal’s features darken. He did not expect Will to stoop so low.

“Hannibal-“

“No, Will. You are right. I have little _personal_ experience. But I have a great deal of experience when it comes to dealing with the consequences of abusive”-here Will makes a snort- “Yes, Will, _abusive_ parenting”. He ignores the "love" part of Will's accusation. 

“Abusive? He’s no different to most any parent where I’m from”

“That is not an excuse for his behaviour Will”

“’His Behaviour’ what do you even-“

“Will. You flinch whenever he makes a move. You are more distracted than usual. You clean your glasses more than Rupert Giles”

“Rupert..?”

 _Šūdas._ Damn Beverly.

“Will. Your father mentioned ‘teaching you a lesson’. Was it do with your…homosexual leanings?”

Will smiles slightly at Hannibal’s phrasing, “homosexual leanings”. “What an asshole”, he thinks, shaking his head with some affection, but the smile is soon replaced a strained look of discomfort.

“Come on Winston; get off me, that’s it”

“Will.”

“Hannibal”. The two look at each other. Will on the ground, Hannibal leaning over him. Dogs running amok, splashing into the bone-shaped pool-on-wheels.

“This dog-house is ridiculous”

“The rental associate assured me- Will. Let us go inside. We can try and discuss this over some food, you ate nothing at… _that_ bar”.

“Alright, but nothing so elaborate as you usually make. I want to just go to bed”

“I shall make you some _juka_. My parents often made it for me; I always found it very comforting as a child”

“Right, nice, subtle technique of bringing the conversation around, Dr Lecter”

Hannibal said nothing as they went inside, and concentrated on tying up his apron, which declared that he was “serious about sausage” (a gift from Alana), and begins to prepare the ingredients for the soup.

“Is that…blood?”

“Yes. Pigs' blood, I get it from the butcher’s”, Hannibal said a little too quickly.

“You’re making me _blood soup_?”

“It is a Lithuanian delicacy. Wonderful with a dark rye bread”

“Jesus, okay”, Will runs his hands through his curls. Hannibal aches, he had to stop himself from running his fingers through Will’s hair whilst he was asleep in the car.

“Now Will,” Hannibal leans over the kitchen counter, “Tell me about your father”

“Now Hannibal, this is exactly why I didn't want to go to a psychiatrist”

“But this is why you need a psychiatrist”

Will rolls his eyes.

“Alright, Dr Phil. I had a difficult childhood. My mother was dead. I had what Beverly would call some “big gay feelings”. My dad… _helped_ me get over them. End of story. I am a sad, damaged man”, Will aims for a light tone and misses terribly.

“And how did he "help" you?”

“When he caught me sucking off my school’s star quarter-back he beat me. And any other time he caught me looking at a man after that”. Will crosses his arms, feeling slightly along his ribs, the sites of many old bruises. Hannibal says nothing for a while, though he chops up the pieces of left-over sales assistant with more force than strictly necessary before adding it to the broth.

“I mean, it wasn't terrible. I liked girls. I _like_ girls”.

They both briefly think about Alana Bloom. Will sighs, and Hannibal blushes slightly to think of making Alana her own blood-plasma-infused beer. She was some woman. Hannibal clears his throat and serves Will his soup. He hesitantly sips at it.  

“I could manage. It was not like there were many other men to really go with. Austin, the quarter-back, made it clear he never wanted to see me again. It was a small place. I found I could give up that part of me easily. I insisted it was all a big confused mistake, a reaction to my mother’s death et cetera, et cetera, but to my father I was forever tainted”

“The way you behaved earlier seemed to indicate that you believe you father”

“It’s…when he’s around. When he is not around, it’s fine. It’s not an issue because I’m not even thinking about dating. When he is…”

“All these emotions come back to the surface”

“Right”.

They pause.

“Delicious soup by the way”

“Thank you”.

Another pause.

“So…what _therapy_ do you recommend?”

“I believe expressing your true self to your father should be a goal, although you first need to be comfortable with that true self in your everyday life as well.  I think a more “hands-on” therapy would do you some good.”

“You mean I get to beat my dad up too?”

“I mean I get to fuck your brains out”.

“What the-“

“Or you can fuck mine out. I did not mean to presume".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the dog houses: http://www.thisoldhouse.com/toh/photos/0,,20295553_20653336,00.html something like these, only more Hannibal's aesthetic. 
> 
> Blood soup recipe on here if you like: http://ausis.gf.vu.lt/eka/food/soups.html
> 
> If you liked Hannibal's apron: http://lumin-essence.co.uk/gifts/candles-and-gifts/stylish-barbecue-aprons-mens-gift-ideas.html
> 
> A discussion on the people-beer: http://pinstripesuit.tumblr.com/post/50173893074/okay-if-youre-wondering-about-how-people-go-in-beer-i
> 
> Also, if you do not know who Rupert Giles is, go watch the entirety of Buffy the Vampire Slayer immediately!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short bit of smut! I'm a long time reader of it, but a first time writer of it so any comments would be appreciated so I can really get it down for the the upcoming chapters/future works.

 

“Dr Lecter, much as I enjoyed our make-out session-“  


“I am glad to hear it. There is plenty more where that came from”. Hannibal winks, slightly stiffly. He’s never really gotten the hang of it, Will can tell. It is a studied wink, as if he learnt it from one of his medical tomes, and Will finds this slightly endearing if so completely, exasperatingly Hannibal.

“Right. Dr Lecter. Hannibal. Sex is not going to cure this. Also sex with my therapist seems like it violates some sort of rule?”

“It is a good thing, then, that I am not officially your therapist”

Will glares at the smirking Hannibal.

“But you are right Will, I was being flippant”, Hannibal shrugs and moves further away from Will, “I was letting my own desire for you cloud my judgement. I could recommend you to my own psychiatrist. She’s very good”

“Are you…trying to reverse-psychology me into sex?”, Will accuses Hannibal whilst at the same time jumping up to follow him, closing in on him, just as Hannibal had intended.

Hannibal turns and grasps Will’s shoulders. The two men stare at each other, Hannibal freely running his eyes over Will’s body, pausing deliberately on his lips.

“Hannibal-“

“Will. Even if it is not me you desire, that if what happened earlier was merely the result of alcohol and stirred emotions, I wish to help you in any way I can. Now-”

He pushes up Will’s flannel sleeves.

“Are these burn marks?”

Will is about to pull away, but thinking it useless at this point just nods, and Hannibal’s face remains a controlled blank in spite of his inner rage.

His fingers gently undo Will’s shirt and trace Will’s ribs.

“Here?”

“Yes”, Will has closes his eyes. He remembers his father’s terrible blank anger when hitting him, over and over. He lets Hannibal continue to touch him. It is just touch, it is not a “male” touch or a “gay” touch, WIll thinks, it is human, it is skin on skin and it is so very gentle.

Hannibal unbuckles Will’s belt, slowly, pulling down Will’s trousers and boxer shorts.

“And did he do this as well?”, Hannibal’s fingers ghost over the pale scars on the inside of Will’s thighs.

“No”, Will looks down into Hannibal’s eyes. Fully into his eyes, which are soft, sanguine and soothing.

“I did that”

Hannibal nods gently, but says nothing, merely continuing to lightly trace over any marks he finds on Will.

“I did it with my dad’s pocketknife. It seemed…appropriate”

Hannibal stands up to full height again, and begins to slowly undress himself as Will starts to unburden himself, hesitantly at first, and then at a desperate unceasing whisper,

“I would cut myself every time I felt the “urges”, things dad couldn’t know about”

Hannibal has taken off his shirt, and Will thinks he is surprisingly toned, thought he must have been hallucinating the muscles he had felt as he clung to Hannibal earlier, and smiles inwardly at his greying chest hair,

“I eventually stopped feeling urges of any kind, so I started cutting again just to feel…anything”,

Hannibal has folded his shirt - Will resists the urge to roll his eyes - and has started on his belt.

“It took me so many years, Hannibal, so many, trying to help people to…to make up for everything that I had done”

Hannibal has removed his boxers and Will feel’s his own cock rousing as he stares at Hannibal’s large tumescence.

“And what had you done Will?”, Hannibal’s voice is rougher from desire, though he still attempts a detached tone,

“…nothing. Nothing that was wrong. I know that. I know it is nothing wrong-“ Will has closed his eyes but feels Hannibal steps closer,

“Jesus", he laughs shakily, "maybe this is helping, we haven’t covered this in our-“ Will gasps slightly as Hannibal leans over to kiss each old scar on his arms,

“Hannibal”,

“Will. Continue”, and Hannibal kisses downwards, his mouth is on Will’s ribs, and Will is unsure if he is allowed to touch this man, so dominant earlier and now on his knees, naked. He lightly strokes Hannibal’s hair, it is soft, soft like, like a-

“Pomeranian?”

Hannibal looks up slightly confused,

“Sorry, your hair is really soft”, Will blushes slightly, he feels like a fool in the face of Hannibal's self-confidence,

“Thank you Will. I will take the comparison to a dog as compliment, coming from you,” Hannibal smiles up at Will, gently, so gently, he begins to kiss up the scars on Will’s thighs.

“Jesus, Hannibal”  


“Will”, and Will whines slightly at the loss of contact, “Will, does this feel wrong to you?”

“What? I-“

Hannibal is running his fingernails lightly up Will’s legs causing him to stutter, and lightly Hannibal begins to kiss the length of Will’s shaft, now fully erect, certain in its desires even if its owner is not,

“Will, does this feel wrong?”

“No, no”

“We are two consenting adults”

“Well, you didn’t actually ask-“

Hannibal shuts Will up by taking his cock into his mouth, sucking down expertly, the dignified doctor managing to look almost coquettish as he looks up at Will.

“God, _Hannibal_ ”

Driven to perfection in all areas of his life, when Hannibal had begun to be interested in sex he had gone at it with gusto. Utilising his medical knowledge and combining it with a scientific drive, when he experimented, he really experimented: control groups of sexual partners, making detailed notes on what pressure of nipple clamp elicited what reaction in his partner, reading up on all makes on vibrators, evening occasionally designing his own toys. Will did not know any of this, though if he had looked in some of Hannibal’s imposing black journals he could read about any number of these experiments (with helpful and anatomically correct illustrations), all he knew was that Hannibal was a goddamn expert at sucking cock.

“Hannibal, _Hannibal_ yes”, Will was panting, as the doctor fondled his balls with one hands, whilst stroking his shaft with the other, licking at the sensitive underside of his head.

“Jesus, Hannibal, I’m going to-“

Hannibal abrubtly stopped.

“Say it Will”

“What?”, Will whined, scrabbling at Hannibal’s shoulders, how could he be so calm? _Fuck!_

“Tell me that this is not wrong”

“Jesus, it’s not wrong! _It’s not wrong_ -“and Will moaned at the hot wetness of Hannibal’s mouth enveloped him again,

“This is right, _so_ right”, he clenches his teeth and bucks his hips as Hannibal hums in assent around him, and Will nearly laughs aloud when he realises that he means it, this does feel right, stupidly, improbably right. Being sucked off by Hannibal goddamned Lecter, his uptight, stuff psychiatrist, is his immaculate house, his psychiatrist who has punched his father, who goes to the opera and is a member of high society is deep-throating _him_ , Will Graham, certified nutcase, crazy dog-man loner and general no-hoper-

“Come for me, Will”, Hannibals face is flushed and his voice slightly strangled, he is just as undone as Will, down on his knees, cock aching for release, “Let go”, and he takes the entirety of Will into his mouth again, and Will comes, crying aloud,

“ _Hannibal_!”

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating in ages! Just settling back into university and I've had a lot going on. This chapter is very short, but hope to update again soon!

A flushed Will is lying, exhausted and sated, on Hannibal’s floor.

“Jesus, I haven’t…not for…I mean…fuck”, Will runs a hand through his sweaty curls and sighs with contentment. Hannibal grins at Will, who he feels he has claimed.

“Hey! Don’t you smirk at me! I’ll show you!”, Will fumbles for Hannibal’s cock, eager to give as good as he got, but Hannibal takes his wrists, controlling Will easily, exciting Will in a way he refuses to think about.

“This is not about me Will. This is about you”

“I think a big step for me in accepting my sexuality is letting me suck that delicious cock”

“Well, I thank you for your presumption of deliciousness, and am charmed by your desire-“

Will shakes his hands free from Hannibal’s surprisingly tight grasp.

“Jesus Hannibal, you get down on your knees and you- you… and then you fucking talk like my doctor again? I liked the Hannibal who was all ‘come for me, Will’”, Will growls in a bad attempt at Hannibal’s accent, making Hannibal laugh out-loud, for the first time as far as Will can remember.

“Will, my mažai šuniukas, if you would let me finish-“

“maz-what?”

“My little puppy”.

Will glares at Hannibal, before his gaze softens and he laughs. The older man returns his affectionate smile and puts his arms around Will.

“I just want to take things…slowly. I don’t want you to have another panic attack”

“Slowly? This is your idea of slowly? I mean, just out of the blue you hoist me up in some seedy bathroom-“

“Will. I assure you that for me this is not ‘out of the blue’. Of course, I do not believe in this ridiculous “love-at-first-sight notion you Americans have-“

Will scoffs lightly, before he takes in what Hannibal is saying-

“Wait, what?”

“Do you not remember our first meeting? I was looking forward to it greatly, from a professional standpoint of course. Everything Jack had said about you, and Alana as well…”

“They mentioned that I’m a total fuck-up, right?”

“Will, you are the most interesting person I have ever met. Don’t roll your eyes Will, this is not about your empathy, this is not me trying to exploit you for some academic paper. A professional interest turned into a friendship. I worked very hard for that Will, you were so closed off, but now-“

Will had nuzzled his face into Hannibal’s shoulder but Hannibal gently tilts his face towards his own,

“Now, Will, I want to be your lover”

A very strong part of Will wants to laugh at Hannibal’s archaic phrasing; his complete and utter seriousness is at once laughable, terrifying and thrilling to Will all at once.

“Hannibal…I…”

“Will. I also noticed when we met how ridiculously attractive you are. Even in your hideous clothes. Alana had mentioned that as well, but our tastes in men are usually quite different”, Hannibal’s smile crinkles up his face in a way Will feels he could never tire of. It is the most open he has ever Hannibal. Will feels compelled to kiss Hannibal, to kiss his smile, and to finally relax into the arms which hold him safe.

. . . .

Will wakes to find himself on satin sheets (“plaid sheets. Seriously?”), the smell of Hannibal’s protein-scramble wafting up from downstairs. He ties on an exceptionally fluffy bathroom that he cannot imagine Hannibal wearing, and then pads downstairs.

“Did you carry me up last night?”

“And good-morning to you Will”, Will rolls his eyes, Hannibal is already dressed in a waistcoat at 9am, “Yes, I did not wish for you to get a backache on the floor”

“Well, thank you”, Will plonks himself into a chair and watches silently as Hannibal continues to cook. Hannibal hands him a cup of coffee with a smile, and gently kisses the top of his head.

“Would you like some aspirin Will? I made you take some before bed, but you may still be feeling the effects of the whiskey”

“I’m fine thanks. You’ll discover that I’m just not a morning person”

Hannibal smiles,

“So you have accepted”

“What?”

“You will become my lover”, Hannibal grins triumphantly as Will rolls his eyes,

“You big dork. Now give me something for my dogs”, and Hannibal is still grinning as he hands over a bag full of liver treats.

 “I hope you’re not getting used to this sort of luxury!”, Will scolds who dogs, who are lounging around the luxury dog-home and pool. To Will’s eye they seem somehow fatter than usual, even after just one day. Spoilt. Will sighs, giving Winston a final belly rub before going back in for breakfast.

“I hope you get used to this luxury Will”, Hannibal winks his stiff wink again as Will blushes,

“You heard me talking to them?”

“Do not worry Will, I believe talking to one’s pets is a normal sign of loneliness”.

Will frowns slightly. He has always imagined Hannibal to be so sure, and confident, but after last night he's come to realise that he is not as good at reading Hannibal as he thought.

“Have you ever had any pets?”

“I have had several loyal and intelligent cats that I was very fond of”

Will immediately pictures Hannibal as a Bond Villain, swivelling around in a chair, white Persian cat in his lap. He shakes the image away. 

They both smile and eat breakfast together in a peaceful silence that neither has truly experienced with anybody else before.

. . . .

 


End file.
